Enter the Minds of Heroes
by LadyVulcan471
Summary: A collection of short stories about what each Avenger and Loki might be thinking during certain scenes in the movie. Originally published under Thor, but I wanted to expand it to include as many characters as I can.
1. Chapter 1: Loki

Ext. Rainbow Bridge

I never wanted this.

I never wanted it to go this far, to hurt so many people. I just could not bear the pain any longer. They tormented me for years, always comparing the two of us, as if there was any justified way to compare me to the God of Thunder. I can't be like him-I could never march into battle the way he does, hammer at the ready and not a second thought or doubt concerning his actions. And every jibe, every passing comment just pushed me further. There is only so much one person can take before their vision goes white and life becomes a hassle to keep living.

But is my life even worth anything? I'm a monster. I'm one of them-a Jotun-the monsters children are told about at night. And once the rest of Asgard found out, I would be even less of a person than I am already. I would be shunned, hated, feared...

So how can I be blamed for my actions? Once Thor was out of the way, taking the throne was only natural. Then everyone would finally see how capable I am of leading, of governing all of Asgard. No longer would I be just the younger brother of a great man-I would be a great man in my own right.

And just when my plans had come to fruition, he shows up again, hammer by his side and mouth set in a grim, disapproving line. Why shouldn't the frost giants have been destroyed? All I ever wanted was to prove to Father that I could do it and to show Thor that I could be great without him-that Asgard could be great without him! I could protect Asgard from any enemy if Odin let me, but there was never a chance. Years of false promises and allusions to an equal chance of having the throne, if I just worked hard enough, and there was never a chance. I could have been the best warrior in all the nine realms and I would still never rule.

Betrayal is something that tears the life right out of you, and as lay here burdened by that which I will never be worthy of I cannot stop the rage that builds up inside me. How dare he humiliate me further? What-

And isn't that just like Thor; heroic to the very end, my dear brother. I cannot stand it. If no one else will rid Asgard of his foolish rule forever, then I'll have to do it for them!

"I could have done it, Father." I could have...and then I would be the son you were so proud of. I'd be the one you loved unconditionally. "For you! For us..." That's right. For all of us...I've failed you, Father; Brother. Farewell.

Ext. Stark Tower

When one invests time into something, there comes a moment when withdrawing is out of the question. You've put all this effort and all these schemes into succeeding-finally getting everything you know you deserve at the expense of whoever stands before you-and at the very last second, when you realize you've bitten off more than you can chew and the events currently taking place are not working in your favor, you find that it is too late to stop it. You don't want this. As your stomach hits your feet and your blood goes cold, the only thing you could ever want is a way out.

As I looked into the eyes of my brother, his blue eyes searing into my own-begging, pleading with me to stop this, I knew that it was too late. It was too late to turn from the path I'd chosen and, success or not, I would have to see this through to the end. He would not understand. Everything has always been black and white to my brother. There is no grey area-no middle ground where perhaps the right thing to do is not the action you choose because you can't face the thought of admitting the fact that you were wrong.

He could forgive me. He would, but can I ask that of him? Can I ask others to forgive my actions; actions of pure evil, done only for my own benefit? I can't. I won't. I'll take whatever punishment they can conjure up and know that I deserve every moment of it, but I will not acquiesce to their demands without a fight. If I did, I would just be Thor's younger brother again, standing in his shadow silently screaming and fighting to stay composed. I would be a joke; a sad story of failure that would be told for years to come.

I'm sorry. I am more sorry than you could ever imagine, but this is what I am now; less than a whole being, a shell with nothing but anguish and suffering tearing me apart. I know you see it. You are no fool. Never doubt that I love you, Brother. I will always care deeply for you, but we can never be as we were. It is too late.

And as my knife is buried inside his flesh, I am dying. The metal might as well have been ripping into my own body, so sharp is the sting. But I must carry on. I have to get away from Thor before I lose my conviction, and become the shadow I once was.


	2. Chapter 2: Thor

A/N: I'm so happy that some people have added this story to their alerts list. I appreciate the confidence boost, believe me. I would love it if you guys posted some reviews!

Int. Jane's Office...

I am ashamed to admit that the first thought I have is one laced with anger, threaded around violent confusion. Why, Loki? And as the tale unfurls from the lips of my friends, I am shocked even more at each accusation they make of you. Surely, they have been misinformed. You couldn't have done this-you wouldn't have!

But when the Destroyer comes, I know they spoke the truth.

Brother, what has happened to you? How have I wronged you? I wish you would tell me what I have done to make you think that you had to act this way. You are no longer the younger brother I grew up with; the brother I sparred with and played with. I don't know you anymore, and I don't understand.

Do you hate me, Brother? For my talents? Because I am to inherit the throne? I cannot change who I am. I never expected you to be anyone other than who you are. When I am pleading with the Destroyer to end this madness that has befallen the small town that has opened it's arms to me, I am speaking to you.

And when I am laying on the ground shortly after, I am thinking of Jane...and I am thinking of you, and all I can really articulate before I fade to black is...

Why?


	3. Chapter 3: Banner

A/N: I haven't updated in forever and I'm so sorry for that. I'm kind of obsessed with tumblr and Tom Hiddleston and thinking is hard. ^^;;; Anyway, this switches from first person to third, which I hope no one minds...It was hard to write, but I hope it came out okay.

It was never going to stop.

The Other Guy's grip on his psyche was strong as ever and Bruce could feel himself slipping further into the black hole that had taken up residence at the back of his mind when this whole thing started. He had hurt so many people.

No.

Not him.

The Other Guy...had hurt _so many_ people.

But Bruce knew that attempting to separate himself from the Other Guy was impossible. They were one in the same; part of the same hollow being that had taken his place after the accident.

Bruce was not a foolish man. If he kept losing control, God knows what he could do or who he could hurt. He had to find a way to stop the change from happening. He worked in silence, desperately using every ounce of his intelligence to try and find something-anything-that would fix him.

After two months, seven incidents that he tried to rip out of his memories, eighteen nights where he drank himself into a stupor and passed out on the couch and literally hundreds of hours bent over a desk pouring over every bit of gamma radiation research he could get his hands on, Bruce gave up. He didn't snap and get angry, he didn't scream and cry or panic about the hell of a life he was currently living. He just...stopped.

For two days he stared at the gun on the table in front of him. The tears came eventually, and he prayed to a deity he had forsaken in the name of science as he wept. He deeply regretted his actions; the greed and desire for power that had led him to seek out the serum that had created the world's first superhero.

When the moment finally came, Bruce was eerily calm. He picked the gun up, hating how heavy it felt in his hand, hating everything that gun symbolized. He put it in his mouth, closing his eyes tightly and remembering back when he was just a man, before he was transformed into this _thing_, and pulled the trigger.

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Bruce awoke in the rubble of what used to be his office, nude and aching. Wordlessly, he spit the bullet into his hand and stared at it in disbelief. He cried silently, letting the tears run down his filthy cheeks into the dirt below him. He stayed like that for only a few moments before rising. If he wasn't meant to die, then there was nothing he could do about it. But he would not allow other people to get hurt because of him.

He made a decision that day to remove himself from society, from stress. If he could calm his mind, maybe he could live peacefully. He laughed inwardly at the thought. A peaceful life seemed like a dream; a completely unattainable dream.


End file.
